#I’ll get there eventually if I try again

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Don't mind me, just revisiting the plot (again) and dying over this line (again). (These screenshots are going to be abysmal, but you'll get the point).

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

Yeah he's talking about Mythal (earned or not) and Felassan and Lavellan and Varric...but the way it applies to HIM, too, is what absolutely guts me.

Long post ahead...

Solas realizing that Lavellan doesn't care about how others see him or want to use him under the inquisiton, that HIS motivations as he has shared them are enough for her and worth defending against those who would tell him he's something he isn't. Solas, for the first time, being confronted with the realization that one these new elves he does not see himself in will still go to bat for him.

"You came here to help, Solas, I won't let them use that against you."

(Is he duplicitous? Yes. But intent on working against Corypheus? Undoubtedly).

“How would you stop them?”

“However I had to.”

“...thank you.”

Solas grappling with the fact that it wasn't just a one off, that this Dalish woman being faced with "hypotheticals" he's desperately been trying to get her people to entertain is jumping in head first, pushing back and disagreeing with him but never treating him worse for their differences and always admitting when he's helped shape a changing perspective. Solas daring to ask for help and marveling at the fact that he receives it, that the same woman who asked if it might some day be possible to live alongside spirits, who did not immediately shoot down his critique of THE CHANTRY REFUSING TO ACKNOWLEDGE SPIRITS AS LEGITIMATE BEINGS (GAH), who did not laugh at him for saying he preferred their company most days, this woman, is going to drop time and resources during war time preparations to personally help his friend.

And then, when he is too late and has once again failed someone he considers a friend, he disappears within himself, where he has always gone to exact punishment for the weight of the lives he believes he's betrayed. It almost works, too.

Psych. Lavellan doesn't want him to grieve alone, to stare at the place in the Fade where his friend used to be and think of all he should have done differently.

“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone.”

“It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”

“I know.”

“I’ll work on it. And thank you.”

And still she unbalances him, accepts him, wants more. Solas is sharing a personality that brings him the closest he has ever been to his spirit form, and it is ENOUGH for her. Existing as he has always dreamt of is all takes to earn her loyalty, respect, and eventually love.

But does she stop there? No. She doesn't chafe at this random apostate who speaks with certainty and unapologetically delves into a past he believes worth preserving, even at the cost of questioning her culture as it currently stands.

The very woman he once thought of as a mistake that HE unleashed upon the world is asking to be a part of his, not because of what he can bring to the table, not because she needs a right hand man, and certainly not because she thinks he has some well of power and intelligence critical to winning over enemies she’s willing to join for "supervisory" purposes (cough cough hi Mythal). She bears the weight of choices that can and will lead to death, to pain, and when it wears on her she relies on him, not for solutions but so that at the end of it all she might smile with someone who knows her heart and the good she tried to do amidst a sea of terrible options. She wants to be known, no inch of her unturned, and worse, she thinks she knows him. But how could she? This is no longer who he is, it is merely the remnants of what he destroyed to make a world at Mythal's whim.

“You’re an admirable man. Not many people know who they are the way you do.”

“Thank you. Both for saying that and…for seeing that. Few in this world can see me instead of just seeing a pair of pointed ears”

She. Sees. Him. Every part he slowly is realizing he wants to be known for and even a few he thought he could hide. And then he gives it all up. Because he woke to a new world where spirits and elves and mages were so far removed from the role they played in Arlathan that it can only be yet another mistake he caused and must fix, never mind the fact that the dwarves have forgotten why they fled underground millennia ago in the first place.

The friend who tore him from the world he loved, urged him to take physical form? She is dead, too, never mind the fact that she ignored his urging for a different path, nevermind that he killed and tore and hurt in her name because otherwise what was losing the part of himself he loved for?

"A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”

“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.”

“You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned.”

He may no longer recognize where the Dread Wolf ends and where Solas begins, but if he gives up now and permits himself the chance to remember, the pain he caused himself and others means nothing, because he did it all for Mythal and in his final discussion with her, regardless of what Veilguard tries to convey, she does not release him from his position as her agent.

And maybe that's part of why I'm so angry, because EVEN BEFORE TRESPASSER, the fragment of Mythal that ends up in Morrigan could have freed him, but she does not.

"I am sorry." He whispers.

"The failure was mine," he tells her, voice trembling. "I should pay the price."

Silence.

And do we get that "what we did, we did together" psuedo-fake ass-absolution, the one that, if given enough time and safety to put himself first he may have realised he doesn't truly need to pursue the things he deserves, that make him feel finally like himself again? No the fuck we don't.

"As am I, old friend." She murmurs.

Looking through the lens of Veilguard, this isn't an apology, it's a condemnation. It's Mythal tormenting him one more time, twisting the knife deeper, agreeing that it is Solas alone who has brought them to this point, who deserves to be punished. And then she reminds him what they are to each other, what he is supposed to be to her. What he must become again.

"It isn't abuse if I ask," Cole says in his personal quest.

"Not always true," Solas shoots back.

So he recommits to the friend he gave up his nature for, he refuses to let himself remember that Lavellan learned the full truth of his identity and still begged him not to mourn alone. Even so, he still cannot quite forget.

Var lath vir suledin. Our love will persevere.

I wish it could, vhenan.

And so he pushes onwards, spending almost a decade denying himself his true nature and regretting that he ever gave it a chance to come through because now he KNOWS that this world is different and a little broken, but it's a world he could be a part of because of the woman and the friends that made a place for him. It is a world that doesn't necessarily need to be restored as much as it might need renovation, but that is not the world Mythal demanded of him when she let him kill a remaining piece of her. And any solution but that means the hurt of taking a body, of hurting the titans, of time and time again being called on by one evanuris to fix a problem they all caused, was for nothing.

And a Pride of that magnitude, that sinister an origin, has a long, long way to fall.

And then that same uppity little shit has the audacity to tell him it's not too late, that he can turn back.

He kills again. He kills again. He kills again.

He kills a friend.

He fails to prevent the Evanuris from wreaking havoc a second time, wrenches another innocent into his war, and when they ask him about the woman he calls vhenan, he feels the mask stifling him begin to suffocate. But he never lets it fall, because to surrender now is to place her broken heart atop the pile of regrets he's been holding up like Atlas crumbling beneath the weight of the world itself. Because he still thinks it selfish to want the things that make him feel like himself again, so they need to be taken off the board entirely.

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

If he gives up now, his entire corporeal life has been a betrayal of many, but worst of all, he will have ruined himself for nothing.

But then she's there. A little older, a little sadder, and still looking at him like she did the night he almost broke and instead carefully removed any suggestion that she had ever belonged to anyone but herself.

"Didn't you hear me?" Her every action screams as she kneels to meet his gaze like he did the day he took her arm (another failure, another sacrifice he cannot let be for nothing).

The tombstone in the fade is his greatest fear, but it is not his fate. Why? She will not let it be. It cannot be his din'anshiral if she is not beside him.

Lavellan may not have understood the depth of exactly WHEN Solas first came somewhere foreign and uncertain to help, but she never once failed to keep her promise. She refuses to let his initial desire to do good be held against him any longer. And when she sees him accept that not-quite-absolution-definitely-more-of-a-power-play from the god that saw what he was capable of and molded him into a weapon, she finds her in to make sure he doesn't walk off alone to mourn again, never again will she lose him to the expectations others have of him. No doubt she wants to find a way to sink the fingers of her good hand into that spectral visage and tear it away like he wishes to do to the veil. But she is not here for Mythal. She is here for her heart, and for the man who has been carrying it since the moment her lips met his in the fade ten years ago.

“No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

She forces him to see that the only remaining betrayal is to lock himself away one more irreversible time. All that's left to lose is the piece of himself he cherishes more than his greatest victories: all that he has to gain comes from making sure the love that was given to him at Skyhold, in the moment where Varric saw all he was capable of and still tried to bring him back home, was not given in vain.

"There is no fate but the love we share." She tells him as soon as Mythal's too-little-too-late platitudes send shudders through his body.

Banal nadas ar lath'ma vhenan.

It will not be so terrible a place, so unforgivable a betrayal if he can finally dare to put himself first. If, unlike that night in Crestwood, he finally gives in not to break, but to make himself whole.

There's a codex entry in Inquisiton about a spirit of wisdom who is summoned by researchers and only after a very pleasant conversation do they realize they made a mistake and never successfully bound the spirit in the first place, that it chose to speak with them of its own accord.

"I am not certain the spirit would have talked so freely had it been shackled at the time," writes the author of the entry.

I keep thinking about this alongside the datamined line of Morrigan saying, "And so, the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things love."

But that isn't quite right, is it?

Because in the end, of course the Dread Wolf could only ever freed by, over everything, love.

[55sturn]

✮ RUNNING INTO EX!CHRIS STURNIOLO AT A PARTY

inspired by + creds to: everyone that has written the ex!triplet au!

disclaimers: swearing, angst, mentions of drugs + alcohol, allusions of cheating [ no cheating ever happened ], chris is so in love with reader

you didn’t wanna be here in some dingy kitchen, complete with a slightly (severely) outdated interior, mismatched furniture in heinous colours that didn’t pair well, tacky printed wallpaper that mirrored the weird carpeting from the hotel in the shining, every surface in the house sticky with various spilt liquids, crushed cans and solo cups crunching beneath the platform of your doc martens with every step you took, and drug paraphernalia laying around everywhere you looked. you could even spot the cocaine straws and leftover residue of the white powder on the brown countertops. truthfully, in hindsight, it was not the best setting for two kids that just got scouted and eventually contracted for some of the best college hockey teams in the state.

but still, you plastered a smile on your face and showed up, for matt and chris, despite that you and chris had broken up a couple months ago. you know and witnessed firsthand how hard they worked to get this far in their hockey careers. and this party was being thrown to celebrate and commemorate their shared dreams coming to fruition.

the air was thick with weed and cigarette smoke as you made your way through the house, your eyes and throat burning with each blink and breath. the smell of skunky ass weed alone could give anyone in attendance the worst case of cotton mouth. you fought the urge to gag at the sight of couples and people who were obviously seeing one another shotgunning smoke into each other’s mouths or even just straight up swapping spit and dry humping one another.

you knew you were being a hypocrite and a bit condescending, considering that you were in those girls’ places less than six months ago. you and chris constantly put on a heavy show of pda, not caring who was around. but as you kept pushing through the crowd of people, your best friend stopped in her tracks, turning to face you so fast you’re shocked she doesn’t get whiplash.

“chris is head of the drink table tonight.” she hums right against the shell of your ear, and you’re quick to stiffen. this is the first time you’re going to see him since the breakup, and it’s not going to be easy considering how harsh the breakup was.

“fuck, i need a drink.” you groan, trying to come up with some way to get a drink without your ex seeing you.

“i’ll get a drink for you, wait here.” she smiles, turning and walking away just as fast as before, and you didn’t even have a chance to tell her that when chris is head of the drink table, he’s quick to limit a person.

you wandered aimlessly around the equally dingy living room, the soft LED lights making your head throb slightly, and you swore could feel the thump of the bass bumping in your blood stream. you knew you needed a drink if you were going to tolerate this any longer, so you took a deep breath before turning around and pushing toward the drink table. you felt your hands begin to tremble as you got closer to seeing chris with each step. you weren’t ready, and you didn’t think you were ever going to be. the fight had been a clash of angry words and deep cutting insults thrown at one another, most of them directed at you.

you stand on the side of the drink table, opposite of chris as he talked to one his buddies, contemplating turning around and pretending you were never there, but his friend taps him on the shoulder and nods toward you, and before you could leave, chris turns around, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second before looking away, only for him to look at you again.

“yo jason grab me a fruit punch truly.” chris calls over his shoulder, and the fact that he stills know what your go to drink has your stomach churning with nostalgia and something a bit more heartbreaking.

you’re quick to take the drink from him and walk away, but he’s quicker, much quicker to tap his friend into their shift and tag along after you, he’s one step ahead of you figuratively, always has been, it’s almost as if he could tell what you were thinking before the thought fully formed in your mind. and he’s quick to catch up to you, to gently grab your arm, pulling you back to face him.

“can we talk?” the words slip out of his mouth before he can even really think about them, and your body goes rigid as you look at him, the question you wanted to avoid had finally settled into the air, thick as the smoke that hung amidst the crowd of partygoers. and you go against your internal wishes as you nod, walking behind him as he pulls you to one of the bathrooms on the top floor, and you don’t question him as he sits on the counter across from the wall you’re leaning against partially to respect his space, mostly because his cologne is intoxicating and you fear that if you sit next to him, you’ll make rash decisions that wouldn’t be fair to either if you.

after a pregnant pause coupled with him watching your face intently, he hums a simple question that hurts more than it should.

“how ya been kid?”

“i’ve been okay, just trying to push through the rest of the semester, you?” you whisper, scared to break the rather agonizing and bittersweet tenderness that clings to the atmosphere.

“i’ve been, well, if i’m being honest, i’ve been a wreck. i miss you, y/n. more than i know i should given what led to us fighting and breaking up, but i don’t want to lie to you. but it’s fuckin’ with my head, you fuck with my head.” he sighs, fiddling with the silver bracelet dangling off his wrist.

“what do you mean?”

“i’ve been benched more these last few weeks than i have in my entire life playing sports, i’ve gotten enough penalties to be threatened with suspension because i’m angry and i hurt every day and i just want to believe that this is just some fucked up dream and that it’ll finally end and i’ll wake up next to you, but it’s like i’m stuck in a loop that started the day you walked out.”

“you mean the day you told me that i’m too much for you? the day you said that you could get with any girl you want, that you almost cheated on me?” you spit, not meaning to sound so angry, but the fact of the matter is, his words killed you. they hung over you like a dark grey cloud, repeating on an infinite loop in the depths of your mind every time you doubted yourself.

“yes. and i regret those words every single second. i’m not trying to justify it, but i could feel myself cracking under the pressure from my coach, under the self inflicted pressure of wanting to prove myself to you, to prove i was still worthy of your love. i wish i had asked for space that night, it would’ve given me a chance to take a deep breath and collect my thoughts instead of spewing hateful lies your way.” he murmurs, his eyes glossing over with tears as you watch him, your own eyes stinging ever so slightly.

“chris-“

“i don’t want to be one of those pathetic guys that begs a girl for another chance after doggin’ on them but god kid, i am so in love with you, you’re the girl i wanna marry, and if i don’t sit here and beg for one more chance, i’ll hate myself until the end of time. i don’t want us to end because i fucked up when i should’ve just taken a step back, i want us to end together, in rocking chairs on our deck when we’re eighty, with grey hair and wrinkly skin.” he pleads, climbing off the counter and dropping to his knees in front of you, his arms wrapping around your hips as he presses his forehead to your stomach, and as mad as you were and as much as his words hurt, the idea of not being able to love chris or feel his love again hurt just that tiny bit more.

the idea hurt enough to make you drop down to his level, your hands cradling his face as you promise him one more chance, but on the condition that he starts communicating with you, because you don’t want to lose him permanently to something that could’ve been so easily resolved, but you also don’t want to go through another night of hearing such painful insults thrown at you by the person that’s meant to love and cherish you. so you let him in again, because you love him, and you know him, you know his heart. because sometimes loving someone, means giving them another chance to prove themselves, it means forgiving their mistakes but not excusing them, and giving them an opportunity to heal and grow from them.

[mattluvr]

CEO!matt, a concept.

💸 what if. . . matt sturniolo was CEO of a company?

at the grand old age of 21, matt sturniolo is the world’s youngest CEO, having inherited his father’s finance company in light of his untimely retirement.

he doesn’t complain; matt has a team of seniors to make his decisions for him, the only thing he insists on chipping in on every year being the annual christmas party. which, naturally, is infamous. it’s what most of the company’s budget gets blown on after all.

in his third year as the owner of sturniolo finances, income in the billions as the company thrived, matt threw the biggest, loudest, craziest christmas party of what he was sure was history, the entire floor of a fancy hotel packed with employees.

and some stragglers. including you.

your brother had dragged you along, overly excited about the first sturniolo finances christmas party of his employment, and had swiftly got drunk and left you to stand like a lemon by the drinks table. which is where matt found you, words slurring from one too many tequila shots, appointing you his newest secretary. one of the only decisions he’s made for the company.

and today is the day you start your new role, which matt obviously can’t remember offering you, but lets you sit at the desk outside his office, head still pounding from the party over a week ago.

“are you sure i gave you this job?” he mutters, running a hand over his face. you nod, tucking a loose strand of your bun behind your ear, hoping you’re still retaining the sophisticated look you tried to construct this morning when getting ready.

“mhm. at that party.”

“yeah, but i did a lot of things at that party.” matt says with a grimace. “like swing from a chandelier…”

you laugh, reminded of the last image you saw before you left the hotel, supporting a tipsy brother on your hip, matt dangling from the structure above you with one arm, hair messy and shirt loose. “that was pretty funny. and impressive.”

“thank you. but not the point.” he frowns, folding his arms, trying to act serious. “i don’t even think i’ve given you any paperwork to fill out. shit, i’ve not even interviewed you.”

“well, you’re the CEO, aren’t you? you can just interview me now.”

matt furrows his brows again, eyes darting to his office behind him and eventually gives in, opening the door for you with a shrug. he often doesn’t interact with any of the people he employs, the whole process too mindnumbingly boring for him, but is now starting to realise why drunk him even offered you a job position in the first place.

you’re fucking unreal, mini skirt a tad too short, shirt just slightly too low cut, and matt is drinking it all in. professionally. of course. he clears his throat, dragging his eyes back to your face with a soft blush as he gestures to the empty room. “take a seat.”

you smirk at him over your shoulder, sitting down heavily in the armchair facing matt’s desk, your skirt riding up as you cross your legs, thighs on display. matt rolls his neck; you’re trying to kill him, he swears. he follows you over nevertheless, sitting opposite and offering you a polite smile.

when your dimple shows in reply, matt doesn’t even think about the interview. “yeah, i don’t know why i did all that. you’re hired.”

“but…?”

matt holds out a hand. he knows this is a bad decision, hiring based off of physical attraction only, but that’s the last thing on his mind. he just wants you out before he blows a load in his underwear, semi poking him each time he shifts.

“you can start tomorrow morning, 8am. i’ll email the paperwork down to reception.”

shocked, you slowly stand up, and matt leans forwards, concealing a groan into his hand. “uh, well, thanks. i’ll… see you tomorrow.”

“mhm.” matt nods, grinning weakly. “yep, tomorrow.”

and then you’re gone, leaving matt alone with his thoughts. fuck. hiring you? he’s screwed.

taglist. . . ( @mattslolita, @aelinslegend, @chrissturniolossidehoe, @mattbrainrot, @conspiracy-ash, @emely9274 ) is open!

[daisymbin]

second chance romance 12. "every song reminds me of you."

woozi gets writers block after his breakup with y/n and realizes how much color and life had when they were still together. he would do anything to get back together 🥺

why does this already sound so heartwrenching :(( thank you for requesting this, lovely!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // jihoon's m.list

second chance prompt #12: "every song reminds me of you."

jihoon had spent weeks staring at his keyboard, fingers hovering but never pressing. the notes he usually heard in his mind came in fragments—disconnected and hollow. every song he tried to write felt incomplete, as if missing the heart it used to have. as if missing you.

he sat in his studio late at night, frustration burning in his chest. “why can’t i just—” his voice cracked, and he slammed his hand against the desk.

the memory of your laugh, your voice humming along with his music, filled his mind. he swallowed hard. you had been his muse without him realizing.

“why didn’t i fight for you?” he muttered under his breath.

a knock at his studio door startled him.

“you’re still here,” seungcheol said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“don’t start,” jihoon warned, leaning back in his chair.

“i wasn’t going to. i was just wondering how long you were planning to torture yourself.”

jihoon glared at him, but seungcheol didn’t flinch.

“you should talk to her,” seungcheol continued, arms crossed. “you’ve been miserable since the breakup, and it’s obvious she’s the reason you can’t write.”

“it’s not that simple,” jihoon snapped. “i hurt her, cheol. you don’t just come back from that.”

“it doesnt have to be this hard either. you don’t know unless you try. you always overthink, but this—this is different. just go. tell her how you feel.”

“and if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“then at least you’ll know you tried.”

jihoon clenched his jaw, his heart pounding as he weighed the possibility of facing you again. seungcheol’s words echoed in his mind long after his friend left, and eventually, he found himself standing outside your door.

the door creaked open, and your face appeared in the gap, your expression soft but full of unspoken emotion.

“hoonie jihoon?” you said his name like you couldn’t believe it, like you thought you might be dreaming.

his breath caught. “hi.” his voice was barely audible. “i… i know it’s late. i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see me, but—” he faltered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice quiet, tinged with sadness.

“i don’t know how to say this,” he admitted, looking down at his feet. “but i couldn’t stay away anymore. i needed to see you.”

your lips parted, your eyes scanning his face for answers. “jihoon… it’s been months—”

“i can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice breaking. “every song reminds me of you. every melody, every lyric… it’s all you.”

your lips trembled, tears forming in your eyes as you tried to keep your composure. “you can’t just show up like this after all this time. do you know how hard it’s been for me?”

“i know,” he said quickly, his own voice thick with emotion. “i know I don’t deserve another chance. i know i hurt you more than i can ever apologize for. but i’m a mess without you. i can’t write. i can’t think. everything in my life feels empty because you’re not there.”

you looked away, tears slipping down your cheeks. “why did you leave me, jihoon? you didn’t even fight for us.”

“i was scared,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “of how much you meant to me. of how much losing you would hurt. but i didn’t realize that losing you anyway would destroy me.”

you let out a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you wiped your face. “i don’t know if i can trust you again. you broke my heart.”

“i know,” he whispered, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. “but i’ll spend the rest of my life fix it if you let me. i’ll prove to you every single day how much you mean to me. just… give me a chance.”

you stared at him, his words sinking in, the raw desperation in his voice breaking down the walls you had built around your heart. he took a deep breath, his eyes glistening. “i don’t want to live without you anymore.

your tears fell freely now, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. after a long moment, you nodded, the smallest movement, but it was enough.

jihoon’s shoulders sagged in relief, his eyes filling with tears. “thank you,” he whispered.

you stepped back to let him in, and as he crossed the threshold, he hesitated.

“i mean it,” he said, his voice trembling but steady. “i’ll spend every day showing you how much i love you. i won’t mess this up again.”

as you closed the door behind him, the weight of the past began to lift. it wouldn’t be easy, but in that moment, with jihoon standing in your home again, you felt the first flicker of hope.

and for jihoon, the music in his heart finally began to return.

[jimblejamblewritings]

starlight moonlight sunlight — blurb ten

Title: To Be Ignored... And Summer Hopefulness

Pairing: ex!Remus x reader, Remus x Sirius, eventual poly!Wolfstar x reader

Warnings: friendship breakup, light angst

blurb series navigation here | previous blurb here

The girls woke up to the noise of someone shuffling in some trunks late at night. They sat up immediately as they slowly recognized it was you. You had been staying with Pamola and Tilda and even Jace, never staying too long because you were sharing a bed and didn’t want to force them to always share with you. You weren’t exactly happy the three of them chose now to get sick at the same time but there was nothing you could do. So you were switching out your clothes and small bag again and mentally preparing yourself to stay with Max. 

Maybe it would be better if you just stayed in your own room for the night. You were already here anyway. But then the girls would try and talk to you. They, especially Pandora, were worse than the marauders in terms of longing looks and awkward eye contact. This morning was no different. Mary, Lily, and Marlene tried to give you little waves but you purposefully looked everywhere but them. It was hard sometimes. Most of the time, actually. But Pamola, Jace, Tilda, and Max were good about helping you get through it. You threw a final pair of socks into your bag and left the dorm, making the short walk up the second set of steps and into the boys’ half. 

Peter was the first to turn his head at the soft knocking on the door. Max sprang to life, pushing out his desk chair. He barely gave them any warning about you staying over for a few days before opening the door to let you in. Sirius felt his jaw tick when Max held your shoulders and whispered something to you, faces only inches apart. Did he have the right? No, but it still made him jealous. Remus on the other hand didn’t feel jealous, just disappointed in himself. Maybe if they had come clean earlier, he could be holding you in the same way he was watching your friend do. Both men’s hearts jumped when you gave the marauders small waves and a thanks for not minding if you stayed. 

“Did you already wash? Are you hungry?” Max asked as he set down most of your stuff. 

You picked up his cat, Cromwell, and scratched between his ears. “I already did both.” 

“Good. Get some rest. I’ll come to bed in a bit.” 

Jealousy finally picked at Remus, potentially worse than Sirius although he would blame the full moon for that. You were getting comfortable in Max’s bed, slipping on one of his jumpers and burying yourself in the sheets. The four marauders had never seen their roommate so animated before. Usually, you and your friends were nowhere to be found outside of class. And whenever you were in lessons or the Great Hall, the five of you seemed so stoic. But you were currently talking up a storm in the dorm room. Sirius felt himself subconsciously smiling whenever you laughed. 

Remus looked over when his boyfriend suddenly snuggled into his side, both of them gripping each other’s thighs tightly. There was a silent understanding between them. They were honoring you and Max’s word and not approaching first. But Merlin did they want to. Remus wanted you in his jumper. Sirius wanted you curled up in his sheets. 

The raven-haired boy laughed to himself. He didn’t know you as well as Remus and you were closer to the rest of their friends before you two even became friendly. But the one kiss and the small period of closeness you spent together as bandmates made him want to know you desperately. It was torturous watching Max finally come to bed, having no qualms about cuddling up close to you. The two of you looked like a couple. Like a happy one. That sentiment continued in the morning as they watched you and Max change around each other with no embarrassment, shower and use the bathroom at the same time, and overall have no boundaries. 

Once again, you basically disappeared outside of classes. They were lucky to catch glimpses of you and your friends in the hallways, unsure of where you went all the time. The marauders weren’t using their map for once. If they took Veritaserum, they’d be able to answer honestly that they not once checked where you were. And they kept it that way all the way to graduation. 

The marauders and friends watched from afar as you charmed a camera so it could take pictures and get the five of you in the picture at once. You were in the middle as the other four kissed your cheeks. 

“Here’s to only a year before seeing your family,” Tilda said, happily. “Rounds at some random pub?” 

A chorus of absolutely rang out. You started to pack up the camera when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning, you were a bit surprised to find James. He was equally shocked, but happy, to see a slight smile on your face. His expression slightly faded as he saw your friends start to make their way back. 

“It’s not to pressure you or anything but I overheard you guys were looking for places and I know money is tight for all of you but our estate has lots of small houses and properties on it so I wanted to offer one of the places to stay. The rent is free or really low if it makes you feel weird about it being free. And it’s one of the farther ones so you don’t have to see any of us if you don’t want to. There’s a pathway separating the place,” he rushed out. 

“Thanks, James. We actually might need that.” You turned around, holding up a pair of keys. “Guys, I found us a place!” 

While your friends still didn’t like the marauders, they weren’t about to look a rich gifted horse in the mouth. Eagerly, they took the keys from you and jotted down the address and house number before apparating. He turned back to face his friends, mainly Sirius and Remus and gave them a thumbs up. They were cautious but optimistic. They had no plans on breaking their promise but some of the things on Potter Estate required walking past the cottages and other buildings. Maybe they could at least get glimpses of you or cross paths. It was worth a shot. 

That somewhat paid off one month into summer. Very much used to walking around the house a little too comfortably, Sirius answered the door while shirtless and still brushing his teeth. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter aren’t here rig— Y/N, hi.” 

Like your name was some sort of beacon, Remus appeared from where he was fixing his tea. You might have been mad at them but you were still human, well, part human. Your eyes slowly traveled down Sirius’ entire bare chest and the good bit of Remus you could see through his unbuttoned pajama top. They also looked at you. Less so your body and more what you were wearing. Sunglasses were on the top of your head in a matching color to your sandals. You were in tight and very short shorts with just a bathing suit as your top. And there was a large tote bag threatening to fall off your shoulders. You were definitely going to the lake with your friends. 

“Can you give this to James? It’s just a small thanks for letting us stay here. He kind of really saved us a lot of stress and financing.” You set the dish of custard slices in Sirius’ arms and then pulled another dish from your bag, giving the cookie cake to Remus. “And this is for Mrs. and Mr. Potter. You guys can have some too and whoever’s here.” 

“Thanks, Y/N.” 

The three of you stood there awkwardly before you finally said goodbye and walked away to meet your friends who were waiting for you a little ways up the path.

| next blurb coming soon |

THIS TAGLIST:

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PERMANENT TAGLIST:

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[afyrian]

my fingers for you sugawara koshi x gn!reader (fluff) m.list | wc: 1k | synopsis: you wrap presents together

    the windows reveal just how late it's gotten, your porch lights shining through into the dining room. the light amber color illuminates the presents sitting beside you. their boxes stacked high as you stare at the assortment of wrapping paper, unable to get started. pursing your lips, you finally grab a tan wrapping paper, a white plaid overlay giving it a nostalgic look.

  grabbing one of sugawara's present, a set of handmade mugs that are covered in paintings of different office supplies, you set the box on top of the wrapping paper. measuring it out, you grab a nearby pair of scissors and start the process. you let it drag across the roll until you reach the end and the piece is successfully on its own. 

  picking off a piece of tape with your finger and thumb, you tape down both sides of the box. taking in deep breath, you take another drink of coffee, trying to keep yourself awake. "hun, you coming to bed soon?" sugawara calls from the staircase, leaning against the railing with a hand rubbing his eyes.

  "not yet, just trying to wrap these presents since we've been so busy," you look back towards him, maneuvering the box so he can't see the store's name on the box. 

  he raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips. the two of you typically hate heading to bed alone, unable to sleep without the other by their side. walking down the rest of the stairs, he sits down beside you, crossing his legs in front of him while resting his hand on your thigh. pressing his forehead on your shoulder, he closes his eyes, "who's present are we wrapping now?"

  "well, i'm wrapping your present right now," you smile, folding down the sides and bring up a triangle of the paper to tape against the side of the box. 

  lifting his head, he looks towards the box, narrowing his eyes. "really?" sugawara peers towards the present, smiling maliciously as you turn the last unwrapped side away from him.

  there's a look in his eyes that makes you want to show him the present in that moment. that he could ask you for anything in the dead of night and you'd find a way to make it work. bringing your thumb up to your mouth, you bite at your nail, trying to hide your sleep-deprived smile. "give me that look again and you'll ruin the surprise," you turn back to the gift, quickly finishing the last side so that the glint in his eyes can't stop you.

  sugawara looks back to you, making sure you can see the gentle smile twitching on his lips. bringing his hands up to your cheeks, he gives you a short kiss, letting his thumbs rest upon your cheekbones. sighing into your lips, he leans back, "alright, i’ll stop now. care to show me which present is next?" 

  pointing to the top of the pile, you spot your brother’s present, a new science educational book that he’d been looking forward to. sugawara picks it up, not expecting the weight that comes with the book. “be careful, it feels like it’ll rip the wrapping paper,” he whispers, handing it off to you.

  “i have wrapped heavier gifts, so let the expert finish their craft,” you smile towards him, whispering as well, acting like you have some reason to be doing so.

  setting it down onto the wrapping paper, you start folding the sides up and over, pulling slightly under the weight. and almost like sugawara had the power of foresight, you can hear the sound of a clean rip. upon hearing that annoying noise, you can feel sugawara’s eyes on you. staring at the ground, you smile. “you have to look at me eventually, oh expert of wrapping paper.”

  “no i don’t,” you shrug your shoulders, biting your lip, “i can just tie a ribbon around the not-rip.”

  he brings his hands back up to your cheeks, tilting your head back to him. closing your eyes, you start to laugh under his touch, knowing that he’s waiting patiently for you to finally look at him. conceding, your eyes open up to look at him while biting your upper lip to stop any further laughter, “told you so.”

  “did you koshi? i don’t even remember talking about it…” you shake your head under his hands, nose crinkling as he rolls his eyes. 

  sugawara lowers his hands and motions back to the wrapping paper, watching as you fold it back up with as much love as you did with the last. he’s always enjoyed watching you wrap presents. watching your hands work their best to create a beautifully crafted gift, it’s always brought a smile to his face. 

  looking back to him, hand picking up a longer ribbon, your eyes staying on his. “would you mind?” you question, wrapping it around the underside of the box.

  “my fingers are always here for you,” sugawara looks back towards you, resting his finger on where the ribbon intersects, crossing so you can create a little bow.

  tying a small bow into the ribbon, he removes his finger. moving his hand to the small of your back, his eyes stay on your face as you curl the ends of the bow strings. a smile curls into his lips, gaze unable to break from the soft light that bounces off of your face. not even the unbreakable stare you have and your tongue sticking out of your mouth in concentration can defer his love.

  “thank you, koshi, you’re making this process much more enjoyable.”

  “anything for you darling,” he leans forward, kissing your cheek before grabbing the next present for you. it’s one that’s in a mysterious cardboard box, immediately intriguing sugawara and his sticky fingers.

  pulling away at the side, you catch his suspicious behavior, grabbing the box from his hands. “that’s your other present, so leave it alone or i’m returning it,” you set it down on a new wrapping paper roll, the red and green trees making a beautiful mix, “and don’t you dare try to look at me with those gorgeous eyes again.”

gen. taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@nekozaki @nnnyxie @kameyyy @nectardaddy (i had to tag you)

[aticklishpercivalwriter]

Is Scaramouche Secretly a lee? (fic)

Tickletober 2024 - Day 5: (Un)tie

Links to Artworks: Sethos (@shikaEin), Wanderer (@wa_bx55091), Durin (@mogyiu)

Summary: Durin is curious about whether or not Wanderer is ticklish or not. Sethos, being the good boyfriend he is, shines some light on the matter.

A/N: I’ll be honest, I think this year’s TickleTober will be sitting quite a while in wip. If I participate in TickleTober next year, it will probably be a weekly thing instead of per day. Happy that I got this one out eventually though :) Besides that, no other notes so just relax and enjoy reading this fic!

Inspiration: Special thanks to @chibimochii’s SethoScara tickle art and @rachi-roo’s pass-the-lee game. Didn’t realize how much I really wanted to see Scara get tickled :P (Also these works put me in a lee mood but let’s just ignore that 😅)

Word Count: 2191 (honestly didn’t expect it to be this long, got carried away, whoops) Also on AO3!

—

Wanderer and Sethos were in the living room, Scara sitting on Sethos’s lap, purring in content as the latter carded his hands through his hair. No words needed to be said to know that they both wanted this and to bask in each other’s presence as the others did their thing.

“Hat Guy!” Their cheerful little dragon flew in with curiousness in his eyes as he hovered beside them.

“I told you not to call me that,” Scara huffed, patting his head gently. “We’re close now so call me by what the others call me.”

“So, can I call you babygirl?”

Wanderer stared at him in disbelief and Sethos burst out laughing.

“Ahahahaha!”

“No, you can’t that-”

He caught Durin’s eyes and saw a playful look in them and it struck him as he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Sethos, you are a bad influence.”

Sethos only laughed harder.

“Why ahahare youhu blahaming mehehe?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you and Durin are teaming up on me,” he said, glaring at the two.

“Nooooo, we weren’t. Right, Durin?”

“Yeah!”

After a beat passed, Scara sighed again.

“You two are insufferable. What did you need anyway, Durin?”

“Oh yeah! I wanted to ask if you are ticklish.”

Wanderer was surprised yet again while Sethos laughed his ass off behind him.

“Seth, you are doing this on purpose!”

“Nohohoho! I swehehear I’m nohohot! Nohohot this tihihime!”

“I’m just curious!” Durin chirped. “I always see you tickling Sethos and the others being tickled but not you. So, are you ticklish?”

He looked at Wanderer and then Sethos curiously.

“Oh, he is ticklish,” Sethos smirked, grabbing onto his wrists and holding them above his head.

“What? Wait, stop! You stupid bee, let me go!”

“Believe it or not, he doesn’t mind being a lee,” he continued, ignoring him.

Scara was glaring daggers at Sethos trying to pull his arms down and Sethos knew full well what his glare meant. I’m so going to wreck you later when we are alone. Will he suffer? Yes. Will it be worth it? Oh yeah. Any chance to wreck his boyfriend is an opportunity he will take, no matter the consequences.

“A lee?” Durin asked, confused before lighting up with realization. “Oh! So, the one who is being tickled, like you all the time!”

It was Sethos’s turn to blush as Scara snickered.

“Y-Yeah, like what you said but enough about me and more about this lee right here,” putting the attention back to Scara. “Two things you will learn today, Durin. One, Scara is ticklish and two, he actually likes to be the lee no matter how much he denies it.”

“Those are not true,” he denied. “Durin don’t believe whatever he is saying. It isn’t truehe-mmph!”

Scara bit his lip when he felt Sethos trail his fingers along his side. Shaking his head in silent denial and squirming as he tried to pull his arms down.

“Durin.”

“Yeah?”

“Hold on to his wrists for me.”

“Okay,” he says, flying over and taking Scara’s wrists in his soft claws.

“No!”

Scara shook his head at Durin, gently tugging at his wrists and trying to slip out of his grip.

“Should I let him go or…”

“Nope, just keep him trapped. You trust me, right?”

Durin looked between the two before looking back at Sethos and nodding his head. The look of betrayal on Scara’s eyes almost made Sethos laugh but he held it in and went to kiss his lover’s cheek in compensation and patted Durin’s head.

“Alright, watch closely~”

“How many times do I have to tell you both that I’m not tihi-mph!”

Scara clamped his mouth shut, jumping in surprise when Sethos squeezed his sides and slid his fingers up and down over and over again.

“What was that honey?” Sethos dipped his head down, whispering into his ears. “Not what? Why don’t you tell us what you were about to say?” Sethos teased, challenging him.

Scara stayed silent, glaring at him with an annoyed scowl and defiantly shaking his head.

“Playing tough guy, aren’t you? How about if I do this?”

Sethos crawled his fingers up towards his armpits making him gasp and immediately squirm and try to curl in on himself but Durin, who was surprisingly strong even though he was small, kept him from doing so as his arms were kept over his head, leaving Sethos to explore the smooth expanse of his hollows.

Scara’s resolve was crumbling by the second as Sethos used feather-light touches to coax a reaction out of him. It was a losing battle as each stroke of his fingers felt unbearable. The soft caresses sent goosebumps all over his body and best worst of all…he wanted more. To have Sethos whisper teases in his ear. To let go and be at his mercy as he tickled him to pieces.

“Ooh! He’s smiling!” Durin exclaimed once he saw a quirk of his lips. “But, if he is ticklish, shouldn't he be laughing by now?”

“Patience, Durin,” Sethos laughed. “He’s just being a stubborn brat holding in his laughter but that will change soon~,” he said, pinching the junction between Scara’s side and armpit, earning a squeak.

“Make sure you hold onto his wrists tightly because when I do this, he is going to let out a flood of laughter~”

“Stupid behehee, I am gohoing toho kill you lahater,” Scara whispered, trying to sound menacing but his giggling took away the effect.

“I’m sure you will, honey~”

“What are you going to do?” Durin asks.

Sethos looked back towards him, grinning.

“Just watch and learn. Get ready~”

Scara felt him going downwards and he instantly shook his head, squirming intensifying as he sent pleading gazes to both Sethos and Durin. Sethos though only grinned a devilish smirk while Durin was too fascinated by what was about to happen.

“Sehehethos! Don’t! Plehehease! I-I’ll do ahahanythihing!” he whispered into his neck.

“Anything huh?”

“Yehehes!”

“Hmm…tempting, but no. You deserve this for all the times you tickled me.”

That was the last thing Scara heard before succumbing to laughter once Sethos dove right into his hip windows.

“SEHEHETHOS! NOHOHOHO! GEHEHEHET OHOHOFF MEHEHE YOU DUHUHUMB BEHEHEE!”

“He’s ticklish!” Durin exclaimed excitedly. “Sethos, I wanna try! Let me try too! Please!”

“I’M NOHOHOT TIHIHICKLISH AND DOHOHON’T YOU DAHAHARE, SEHEHETHOS!”

“Someone’s excited to tickle the angry kitten,” Sethos chuckled, wincing once the words left his mouth. He’s going to die later, isn’t he? “Let me have my way with him for a little and I’ll let you try tickling him, okay?”

“Yay!” Durin’s eyes sparkled with delight.

“I’LL GEHEHET YOU BOHOHOTH BAHAHACK FOHOHOR THIHI- AHAHAHA!” he let out a guffaw of laughter when he felt thumbs rubbing deep circles into his hip bones. “YOUHUHU KNOHOHOW IHHIT’S BAHAHAD THEHEHERE! BWAHAHAHA!”

“That’s why I went here, my sweet honey~ You like it?”

“NOHOHOHO! STAHAHAP IHIHIT!”

“He says, arching into the fingers massaging his hips,” Sethos narrated, laughing.

“SHUHUHUT UP!” a blush making its way on his face, alongside the redness of laughing.

“I actually think you like this~ What do you think, Durin?”

“Yeah! He is laughing and smiling a lot.”

“THAHAHAT MEHEHEANS NOHOHOTHING!”

Sethos rolled his eyes. “Such a stubborn lee you are,” he says, blowing a raspberry on his neck, earning a loud squeal before pulling away completely.

“Your turn, Durin~”

“Finally!”

Sethos smiled at their dragon, taking Scara’s wrists in his again though this time, tying them up with his scarf.

“NO! Seth, you better let me go or I’ll make you suffer later.”

“How about you just admit you are ticklish and actually like this and then I’ll let you go?”

“You are a- HAHAHAhahaha! D-DurihiHIHIN! NOHOHO! Stahahap!”

Scara was defenseless against the onslaught of ticklish licks that Durin inflicted upon him. Through his cackles, Durin was taking his sweet time, enjoying the effect he was having against Scara. Meanwhile, Sethos was smirking and casually watching Durin have fun and his love trying to scrunch up his neck to no avail.

“Try his ears!”

“NOHOHO! DohOHOhon’t! Nohoho snahahacks fohohor youhuHUHUHU- NAHAHAHA!”

His pleas and threats fell upon deaf ears as Durin mischievously licked and nibbled against his ears. He squealed, shaking his head to dodge his dragon but Durin was faster, flying back and forth and switching spots randomly like a pro ler. Even Sethos was kind of feeling bad for his honey when he fell into hysterics, though just a little. Who would have thought that their dragon was a ler at heart?

“DUHUHURIN PLEHEHEASE! STAHAHAP! I’M TIHIHICKLISH! I’M TICKLISH OHOHOKAHAY! PLEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!”

Durin pulled away, grinning happily as Scara fell onto his side, curling into himself as he gasped for breath, little giggles slipping out.

“That was fun! Can we do it again?”

“Nohoho…”

“Aww, I wanna do it again though.”

“Sehethos, tell him noho.”

“Can I, pleaseee?”

Durin gave Sethos the cutest dragon eyes he can muster and Sethos gave in instantaneously. How can he deny those eyes?

“Well, how about we both tickle him? How does that sound?”

Durin cheered while Scara inwardly groaned, already inching away like a caterpillar.

“And where do you think you’re going?~”

Before Scara knew what was happening, he was yanked back, laying across Sethos’s lap and looking up at a devious bee and a gleeful dragon.

“You still haven’t told us you liked this,” Sethos teased, circling his navel with a finger.

Scara squirmed in his lap, biting back a smile.

“It’s because I don’t.”

Durin and Sethos exchanged a look.

“What? No, you both stay away. Stay awahahay! Waitwaitwahahait! NOHOHOHOHO!”

Scara dissolved into laughter, louder than before as he felt Durin’s soft claws against his armpits and Sethos’s fingers plunging into his belly button. The ticklish sensations causing his brain to short-circuit as he struggled against them half-heartedly.

“Don’t be shy. C’mon, say that you actually like this.”

“NEHEHEHEVER!”

“Tch, maybe this will encourage you then.”

Sethos started kneading his hip with one hand and scribbling across his belly with the other, occasionally dipping into his navel to scratch inside. A spike of excitement rushed through him as he threw his head back.

“BWAHAHAHA! SEHEHETHOS! I HAHAHATE YOUHUHU! GAHAHAHA!” He then felt Durin move to his other armpit, even adding little licks to his neck and making him frantically pull at his still-tied wrists.

“DURIHIHIN! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE! AHAHAHA!”

“Good job Durin!”

“YOU GUYS AREHEHE EHEHEVILLL!”

“You know how to stop this~”

Scara weighed his options in his tickle-addled brain and although he is loving the tickling, he doesn’t think his body could handle anymore.

“AHAHAHAHA! FIHIHIHINE! I LIHIHIKE THIHIHIS! THEHEHERE! NOHOHOW STAHAHAP!”

“Like what?~”

This asshole.

“YOU KNOHOHOW WHAHAHAT!”

“No, I don’t know. Do you know Durin?” Sethos winked at him.

“I don’t know,” Durin played dumb, winking back.

“I’LL KIHIHIHILL YOU BOHOHOTH!”

“Nuh uh, not if we do it first. Now Durin!”

If Scara thought they went all out before, he was certainly wrong. He exploded in laughter, jerking side to side as Sethos went to town on his hips and squeezing his thighs while Durin flew back and forth, switching tactics on the fly.

“AHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHE- NAHAHAHAHA!”

All he could do was laugh and laugh as his boyfriend and dragon sent him into ticklish heaven. He hasn’t laughed like this in a while and the giddy feeling flowing through him was making him feel like he was on cloud nine. He felt so warm inside and just what words cannot describe. However, as with all good things, they must come to an end and his body was telling him that he couldn’t handle much more.

“MEHEHE- HAHAHAHA! MERCY! MEHEHERCY! I LIHIHIHIKE- AHAHAHA! I LIKE BEHEHING THEHE LEHEHEHEE! THE LEHEHEE! PLEHEHEASE!”

They immediately stopped, Durin moving to untie his hands as Sethos massaged the residue tickles away.

“Thahahank youhuhu. Thank youhu.”

“There’s your answer Durin, he is ticklish and actually likes it~”

“Sethos, plehease shut up. It’s embarrassing. And for the record, only sometimes.”

“That was fun!” Durin excitedly said. “I want to do it again soon.”

He looked at Scara with hopeful eyes, making the latter look away.

“O-Only when I’m in the mood.”

“Yay!”

“Hey, what about me? Do I get a pass to tickle you too?”

“No. You actually will be punished and you too Durin, but just a little for you.”

“Aww, okay,” Durin sighed while Sethos gulped, weary of what his love might do but excited, nonetheless.

“But not right now. I just wanna yawn sleep.”

He snuggled up to Sethos, making Sethos’s heart melt at the sight as he laid down beside him.

“I love you,” Sethos said, kissing his forehead.

“Love you too,” Scara mumbled back, making Sethos chuckle.

“Don’t forget about me!”

Durin flew into the space between them as the two lovers wrapped their arms around each other and their dragon.

“Love you, Durin,” Scara and Sethos said in unison.

“I love you both too!”

The happiness of Durin was infectious as both Scara and Sethos smiled before closing their eyes and drifting off to sleep, Durin following suit a moment later.

This is what love feels like. My home.

—

Here’s some leftover rough planning and writing for this fic for those who like this stuff and how it all comes together :) If it seems unorganized, unformatted, wrong grammar, etc., it’s because it’s supposed to be. Rough for a reason :)

SethoScara

Living room

Scara denies being ticklish in front of Durin. Sethos proves him wrong. Tells Durin to hold Scara’s hands up. Scara’s voice wavers but doesn't back down. Durin is eager and curious, while Sethos has a devious smirk. Once it starts, Scara bites his lip to hide his smile and to hold back his giggles, gently pulling at his wrists, not wanting to hurt Durin.

Sethos grabs the Halloween decorations and wraps them around Wanderer.

Durin observes the others tickling each other, learning the words lee and ler and asks Scara if he is a lee in the presence of Sethos. Sethos bursts out laughing while Scara goes with a blunt no though a blush is visible on his cheeks. He can be a lee sometimes. Scara sends him a warning glance. Durin goes I wanna see!

Scara refuses to raise his arms, Sethos telling Durin to grab his arms when he does this. Durin says what, then Sethos says this and squeezes Scara on the sides. Making him squeal in surprise and moving his arms to protect himself but Durin was quicker and with a fellow swoop, captured his wrists and raised them above his head. Dragon strength :)

I actually think you like this. What do you think Durin.

Yeah! He is laughing and smiling a lot.

Scara weakly…

I wanna try! Lemme try! Please!

And how could Sethos refuse those pleading eyes of his as he took over restraining his boyfriend’s hands and let Durin explore.

Scara tried to sternly tell Durin not to do it but he was too excited to not try tickling him. Adding insult to injury, Sethos poked his sides as he talked, making his speech all squeaky.

I'll get you both back he said as his threats weren't working. He instinctively squirmed away from Durin as he got close.

“Stay away!” His voice wavered but Durin hesitantly backed off making his heart drop if he actually scared his baby dragon.

“I-”

“He doesn't mean it Durin. It's normal for ticklish people to say that and other stuff. He actually likes being tickled so don't hold back.”

Sethos beat him to it and he could hear that smirk in his voice. In any other situation, he would've sent a death glare to him but he sighed in relief as the scared and hesitant look disappeared from Durin’s eyes and was replaced with eagerness and curiosity.

and scara falls on to his side, trying to escape. sethos straddles him, back against the couch, durin uses his soft claws against his armpits and upper body/sides, little licks on his neck. sethos focuses on his hips again, navel, and lower sides. scara finally admits he is ticklish and likes being the lee…sometimes and they both stop. Sethos collapsing on him and hugging him turning them on their sides and Durin perching on the top/lying in the middle (they make room for him)

Fluffy ending with them in each other’s arms plus Durin OR Durin leaves and Scara and Sethos have their alone time again with Scara pushing Sethos down and Sethos thinking he is going to be tickled but instead they are making out while Scara goes, “Payback for that stunt you did. Think you can keep up?” Tickle payback eventually too…

—

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Nicky and Death

Nicky is three, playing by a creek a little ways away from camp, entertaining himself by trying to stack rocks together while his mother cooks.

He places a rock with great care and then a woman is there, kneeling on the ground next to him. “Wow,” she says. “Nice rocks.”

Nicky has a toddler’s sensitivity to condescension and there’s none in her voice. She does really seem to like the rocks. “I building a tower. I can do up to six and then it fall,” he tells her, an extroverted child, used to charming people on his mother’s behalf.

“Hmm. I bet we can do more than six. What do you think?” she asks.

He considers, then hands her a rock and she isn’t actually that much better at it than him, but by the time his mama calls for them, they’ve managed a tower of ten.

He’s too focused on the rocks, he doesn’t notice the way the strange woman freezes like a hunting dog sighting prey when Agatha’s voice rings out. “If any little boys were out there and wanted dinner, now would be the time to come back.”

“Coming, mama!!” He yells, then, “That’s my mama,” he tells the stranger.

“So it is,” she agrees and there is a tone in her voice, like she’s got a cold, strangely sniffly. He should know, he gets them a lot. “Is she a good mama?”

He nods. “Mos’ly. She makes me eat ve’gatles.”

“Truly terrible. Do you want to play together again sometime?”

He nods. The stranger is good at stacking rocks and he likes having someone to play with when his mama is busy.

“All right. But listen, little Nicholas. You mustn’t tell your mother about me. Or I’ll have to disappear and never come back.”

He accepts this with a child’s acceptance of fairytale logic, the same way he accepts that she knows his name with no introduction. “‘K.”

She offers him her hand and they shake like adults.

“Nicky, hurry it up, the food is getting cold!” His mama yells.

“G’tta go. Bye,” he tells his mysterious new friend, bounds up and races away toward his mama and food he hopes contains no vegetables of any kind.

“…She’s always so impatient,” Rio murmurs, flicking the tower of rocks over, her ears pricked to hear the distant sounds of a woman and a boy chatting together. “…Miss you so much, my heart.”

She sits, listens and grieves for some unknowable length of time, until eventually, between one breath and next, she disappears, stops listening but never stops grieving.

[fandom-hoarder]

There was a lot nice, but "sleazy jdm x Jared " got me so crazy. Please share.

🥰 Sleazy jdm x jared is loosely based on this post (and unbeknownst to me at the time, @supernaturalkickparty started one at the same time lol. I'm pretty sure hers is farther than mine though.😅)

“I just want to try it. It’s okay, right?” The kid looks at him, earnest and hopeful.

A little thrill goes through Jeff at the sight, like he’s found a four leaf clover; the kid’s a first timer.

“You said at Jensen’s if I ever wanted to try it, to come to you first. Remember?”

Suddenly Jeff realizes who this kid is. “Jared? Jensen’s friend Jared?”

He thinks of the pretty young blonde he’d dated a couple years ago, Donna Ackles, and her equally pretty son who had left for college shortly before Jeff had stopped dating his mom. Until he’d left, Jensen had had friends and teammates around to hang out a lot, one of whom had been Jared; Jeff hadn’t minded too much, except that it meant needing a bit more discretion whenever he had a client on the line. It had been inevitable that Jensen would figure out how Jeff made his real money, and although Jensen hadn’t ratted him out to his mom, it had also been inevitable that Donna would find out eventually.

But not before Jeff had done the responsible adult thing and taught Jensen and his friends about watching out for drug scams, and told them if they ever decided to do drugs, to come to him. He’d make sure they had a good first time. Jeff remembers how Jared had blushed just as much back then as he is now, and wonders if Jared had wanted to back then, too. But Jensen had gone off to school without taking him up on it, and Jared had stopped coming around—probably off at college himself—and then Donna had kicked Jeff out, and he had found himself a little rental on the other side of town and gotten used to the bachelor life again.

Jeff can’t get over the breadth of Jared’s shoulders now, or the sharpening of his jaw; but the dimples, and those delicate moles on his face, and those unique, fox-like eyes—those he remembers. He wonders how he didn’t recognize the kid before, but he must’ve grown about six inches in these last few years. Jeff remembers being able to see the crown of the kid’s head, and now they’re about even.

“Yeah, Jensen’s friend,” Jared answers, voice soft, blushing red now.

“Well, damn, kiddo, you sure filled out, didn’t you?” Jeff finds himself saying. “You did good coming to me.”

Jared perks up, still blushing, “I did?”

“Yeah, dude,” Jeff says, giving Jared’s shoulder a warm squeeze. “I’ll show you the ropes.”

Jeff has a few pre-rolled joints for easy selling, but he likes to make the first time an experience. It keeps them coming back, and he likes to think of himself as the wise old uncle type, with wisdom that must be passed on.

“Watch closely, son. We’ll have a practical exam later,” Jeff jokes.

Jared’s eyes don’t leave Jeff’s hands as he gets out a paper and fills it from his personal grinder, rolling it back and forth between his fingers until it’s just tight enough. When Jeff lifts it to his mouth to lick the gum edge, Jared stares intently at Jeff’s mouth, swallowing noticeably when his eyes flicker up and meet Jeff’s before skittering back down to his fingers closing up the joint and tapering the ends.

“You ever smoke anything before?” Jeff asks, pretty sure of the answer, holding up the doobie for Jared to get a look at his work.

“No, Sir,” Jared says again, taking it from him and examining it almost reverently.

Jeff can’t help grinning and replying in a flirtatious rumble, “Keep that ‘sir’ stuff up, son, I might just get used to it.”

Jared laughs like he thinks Jeff is teasing him, and Jeff just smiles enigmatically, brushing his fingers against Jared’s as he takes the joint back.

“If it’s your first time, I better start it up for you. But first: a little ambiance.” Jeff gets up and switches off the bright overhead light, reaches for the switch on the Budweiser & Bud Light sign above Jared’s head, and the room lights up in a purple combination of the red and blue lights. He drops back into his seat, snatches the joint from where he’d tucked it behind his ear, passes it around his fingers just for the showmanship, lights it up and takes a few short puffs, getting the cherry glowing nice and even before inhaling deeply and blowing it out in a casual ring. Holds the doobie up, savoring the flavor and watching the smoke ripple as he offers it over to Jared. Jeff thinks he feels Jared’s fingers shake as the kid pinches the tip of the joint and takes it from him. He watches Jared’s cheeks suck in as he hits it and hands it back, and they get three rotations in before Jeff realizes Jared isn’t blowing out any smoke.

“Hey, dude, you getting anything?”

“I don’t know, ”Jared admits, like the truth is painful. He looks sheepish, holding the joint out to Jeff like he’s been asked to give it back. Jeff can’t quite tell if he’s blushing anymore thanks to the bar light, and feels a little robbed.

“Here,” Jeff says, taking the joint and smoothly hopping the corner from his seat to the cushion right beside Jared. “I’ll hold it for you. Make sure you aren’t pinching it closed.”

Jared looks like he can’t believe this is happening, even as Jeff puts the tip of the joint between Jared’s open lips. Fingertips kissing Jared’s mouth, Jeff softly commands, “Suck.”

And Jared does, hard, cheeks sucking in again, cherry eating down the paper. A cloud of smoke bursts out as Jared immediately starts coughing from his first real hit, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes after a few barking coughs. Jeff can’t help but laugh, endeared, patting his back through the choking. “Relax, sweetheart. Don’t fight it. Just let it out.”

Jared finishes coughing and wipes his face and mouth with his shirt. Jeff lets his eyes travel the wide strip of stomach it reveals; the peak of hip bone above Jared’s basketball shorts; the hint of a treasure trail disappearing into his waistband. He drags his eyes back up when the shirt drops, and drinks in Jared’s sharp collarbone as he adjusts his clothes. “Sorry,” Jared says, not meeting Jeff’s eyes.

“S’alright, kid,” Jeff says, easy, grinning. His hand is still on Jared’s back, and he rubs in a circle before pulling back to rest his arm on the back of the couch behind Jared. “Happens to the best of us.” And the coughing will help the kid catch up his buzz, since he hadn’t actually gotten any yet. “You just need to learn not to take it so hard.”

[smilingfiend]

Aight the brainrot has reached compulsive doodle status. Here’s an eepy Charlie that was quickly drawn in an unhinged state of mind

[headaching]

i don’t really know how to say this but for reasons unbeknownst to even myself, i think im finally ready to come back!!!!! it’s been over a year (😭) since i was regularly posting but today i decided enough is enough!!!!!!

not really sure what the protocol is here, i guess i’ll just start posting and reblogging stuff again like nothing ever happened?? but i MISSED YOU ALL so much and im so glad to be back and i can’t wait to hear what y’all have been up to :’)

im 27 now (i started this blog when i was 23 🤒) and im still autistic and gay as ever, but i do have different media hyperfixations (currently challengers and yellowjackets and iwtv 😮‍💨) than i used to so you might see me posting about that!!! but really, not much has changed with me. i got a new job and im doing better mentally and i missed my friends so here i am!

idk how to wrap this up so i’ll leave you with this: we are so fucking back!!!!!!

[chibishortdeath]

Mspaint is really fun actually—

[fregget-frou]

@autisticempathydaemon said they loved my Angel listener (along with everything else it was SO SWEETTT OMLLL<333) so here’s a doodle for you! They’re also one of my favorites!

Look at that face.

Full of mischief.

Some fun facts about them: they’re native! Specifically they could be from the Salishan (but I don’t know too much so I leave it ambiguous) and are half Filipino, born and raised in British Columbia, Canada around Vancouver. They were raised by their mom and brothers, then moving to dahlia for college.

They originally planned to secure a high end job in Vancouver just going to California for school but they met David. They still visit their family as often as they can.

They’re 5’4, the shortest listener! Aklag is still beefy and could definitely throw David over their head. Their callouses are from being raised on a farm, and they’re starting to fade now.

I took them out of another story I made a while ago so I’m still trying to tweak them seamlessly so I’ll actually maybe probably not but make a backstory sheet for my listeners?

Thank you sm for your words and I hope you like it!

[butchvamp]

ah, yes, taash doesnt Get It TM because the evil qun has poisoned their mind…… nevermind that this could have been a perfect opportunity to connect the two (even if taash does feel differently than flynn). it’s not the fact that they’re just sheltered in general and new to all of this. and apparently have no friends(?) and all their peers treat them like a child despite them being an accomplished dragon hunter. it’s just always the qun's fault. why the fuck would flynn say that

[cashweasel]

🏨 gimme those blorbo rooms fdsfdsfsfsd, since it’s Pinterest can I ask for more than one? XD if so ima ask to Karimas and Shaheens OH and also Gideons (low key I know what valens/yazans looks like but its a good excuse for u to get to share) so if u want to Valens and Yazans wild be fun 😌

K BYEEE <3 😘

LOLL im glad you asked and yes i will give you all of them 😌😂😂

Karima: she’s obsessed with collecting room decor and she has a crochet corner, half of her decor is crocheted too honestly 😂 I think she also has a thing for animal print stuff esp curtains and pillow cases, she’d keep small ceramics stuff she made with daemon everywhere

Shaheen: idk why it was funny to imagine his college dorm lol he uses space very efficiently also his desk is very important 🧠

Gideon: his room is so big and so empty but he’s barely home so who cares, the only notable thing about it besides the diabolical toys collection on display is the display cabinet he keeps all his medals, plane models, pictures, uniforms etc in

Yazan: yazan’s room as you know is a Dumpster 😂 it’s impossible to find anything in there and it’s never tidy, also so many posters and records + ofc drum corner

Valen: very pretty but his room is an entire house in itself you need directions to where everything is 💀 Texas king bed with a canopy, mirror above bed/on ceiling, maximalist unique decor and very beautifully coordinated color wise. Also huge portraits of himself obviously lol

[OC headcanons: Picture Edition!]

[giggly-squiggily]

Hey hey sorry I’ve been MIA lately y’all life changes (good kinds) are happening and taking up all my time and energy to socialize 😭🙏🏻💖🫂 Next break I get, I’ll be sure to answer everyone’s asks and such!

Have a beautiful boy to bless your Monday!